


Five Truths

by Imrix



Category: Stories: The Path of Destinies
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Mentions of multiple past deaths, Time Loop, Very dark time loop, maybe ptsd iunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7529305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imrix/pseuds/Imrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reynardo is very tired of dying. But he knows the four truths now, and one more as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Truths

**Author's Note:**

> This came from me playing and playing Stories: The Path of Destinies to 100% completion, my adoration for its atmosphere and characters, and a niggling dissatisfaction with an aspect of the ending that, if you've played the game, you probably already know about. So I decided to fix it, and if anybody else enjoys it, well, that'll be a joy too.
> 
> If you haven't played the game this story may not make much sense, nor will it be terribly satisfying, and it includes major spoilers for... just about everything, really. It's an alternate ending, after all. So if you haven't played it then allow me to first recommend the game as follows;
> 
> Passable gameplay, very interesting concept, excellent atmosphere and storytelling. Think Groundhog Day or Live, Die, Repeat, recast as heroic fantasy with talking animals, and a streak of dark humour a mile wide. You play Reynardo, a fox, former sky-pirate turned rebel champion and all-around Dashing Hero type, searching for something to stop the mad Emperor's fleet from crushing the Rebellion. 
> 
> You will fail. When you fail, you will die horribly.
> 
> Seriously, you'll be stabbed, shot, blown to smithereens, sucked into apocalyptic vortices, devoured by eldritch abominations, commit suicide-by-army from heartbreak for your dead love, be killed BY your love, all of it and more. But when you die, you'll learn things that might help you figure out how to fix this mess the next time. The game has twenty-five paths, most of which end in your ignominious failure, and all but one of which ends in your death.
> 
> But the one that doesn't... Ah, the one that doesn't. It's rare that I feel like chasing 100% completion for a game, especially when doing so involves multiple runs just for the sake of grinding an achievement. But I'm a big fan of earning your happy ending, and that last path is sweet enough that I didn't mind seeing it over and over. If that sounds interesting, or if you just want to read this story without any confusion, try the game! It's only £11/$15 on Steam, and if you just want to gun straight for the true ending you can 'complete' it in six or seven hours - although for my part, I definitely found it worthwhile to go through all twenty five paths. There's a wealth of story and worldbuilding spread out over the various routes, most of which you'll never hear if you go straight for the final ending.
> 
> On that note, I shall stop rambling on. Off we go!

As he rode the platform past a familiar outcropping of crystals (they all felt familiar now) down to the Nexus Observatory, Reynardo felt that it was all going rather well. Skyripper's Core was in the Emperor's hands, Lapino was probably picking up the Iblis Stone by now, and Zenobia was following him to the proof of her fathers treachery. Reynardo thought the living dead were creepy, but they were also useful, a True Witness far beyond any reason to lie.

Anyway, the _point_ was that it was all going according to Reynardo's heroic, brilliant, genius plan to Fix Everything.

Except, where was that burning smell coming from?

-

The observatory was a burning hulk. Worse, it was a _familiar_ burning hulk. This... This wasn't in the plan! He'd solved it! Things weren't supposed to keep going wrong!

How many times had he stood here, looking at dead scientists and black feathers? Oh, why couldn't he remember when he needed to? The memories were there, but they were like smoke on the edge of his thoughts. Half the time when he could catch them, they turned out to be some horrible death he'd suffered.

Reynardo took three quick strides to his right, drew his sword and, with a roar that a small part of him noted had a faint edge of hysteria, cut and smashed and hacked a pair of crates to flinters. It was easy, and it only took a handful of heartbeats, but when he was done he was breathing hard. Sliced and pulped fruit spilled out, adding an unwelcome wisp of sweetness to the stench of ruin and death. He was so tired of dying, of nothing going right.

Zenobia stared at the carnage. "He didn't want me to hear the witness, did he?" And Reynardo felt relief surge within him; there was still hope!

Reynardo turned and met her eyes. Her gaze was sombre, accepting, and there was something else in there as she glanced at the smashed crates, something he couldn't place. So he said only, "I guess not."

Zenobia took a short breath, stood up a little straighter, and Reynardo could see her coming to a Decision. He'd always admired (loved) her focus and poise, how she could learn some new aspect of a fighting style or sorcerous theory and smoothly pivot her whole self to run with it. He'd thought it was a cat thing for a while, some part of always landing on their feet, but now he knew it was purely Zenobia.

So, after learning that her beloved father really was the monster her enemies described him as, she only asked, "what's your plan?"

With building hope, Reynardo explained his genius, heroic, brilliant plan. How he'd sent Lapino to fetch Skyripper's Core, and how he'd already passed it on to the Emperor without either of them knowing how unstable it was. How, when Lapino came back, Reynardo had sent him to fetch the Iblis Stone, which would feed his bitter little rabbit heart and turn him on the Emperor, forcing Emperor Isengrim III to use the Core to defend himself, blowing both of them up without Reynardo, Zenobia or the Rebels having to lift a finger! It was genius - _he_ , was a genius!

But instead of being awed by his master plan, Zenobia kept asking questions. Difficult questions, like, "how can you be sure the Core will explode?", or "how do you know Lapino won't come after _you_ instead?" which was, he had to admit, a thorny one to which even he thought his answer sounded a little lame. But an amazing thing happened - for once, he seemed to be able to convince her. He'd _never_ been able to talk her into anything before!

Eventually, shaken but resolved, she said, "let me visit your Council. I want to help."

For a moment, he wondered if he could really trust her. Then he felt ashamed, and firmly thought to himself, _yes, of course I can._ He should be happy. He'd done it! The Core was in position, the Stone was on its way, and he'd made Zenobia see how evil her father really was! He wished she didn't feel this urge to join in the Rebellion, but he supposed he wouldn't love her so much if she didn't. She'd always been conscientious like that, it was what had made her such a good student when they'd been at Sword Fu school together.

Zenobia told him she had to go somewhere first, and Reynardo smiled as he told her the location of the secret base. The longer she took, the closer Lapino would get to the fleet, and the less of this mess Zenobia could possibly get wrapped up in.

But as they agreed to meet in the ruins, Reynardo couldn't shake off the very bad feeling he was having, because this, too, felt familiar. As he watched her turn to leave, he caught a snatch of memory that he wasn't sure whether to curse or be thankful for. Either way he stretched out an arm and blurted, "Zenobia, wait."

She stopped, glancing back at him with a questioning look. "You're," he started, stopped, licked his smoke-dry lips and tried again, "you're going to intercept Lapino. You're going after the Iblis Stone, to kill your father yourself, aren't you?" and his heart sank at the look of shock that came over her, because it was as good as an admission.

"How di-" and normally he'd never dare interrupt her, but something wild and desperate had him now, "it won't work. It's evil, it'll eat you from the inside."

She turned to face him fully, frowning. "You can't know that. I know how to deal with dangerous artifacts," she said, and Reynardo knew what to do with dangerous artifacts too - you gave them to your enemies before they blew up. But Zenobia was adamant, "in case you've forgotten, I'm a _pretty good_ sorceress."

Reynardo felt the weight of the Book at his back, and hesitated. Part of him was screaming that he couldn't tell her. What if she took it? What if, if the magic only worked so long as only he knew? What would happen to him, if the spell broke? What if?

But he was so, so tired of dying. So he reached behind him and took out the Book, offering it to her. "Alright mighty sorceress, what do you make of this?"

She looked confused at the change of subject, but apparently decided to humour him. "It's a book. Old... Obviously magic, but-"

"It's a book of prophecies," he spat out, before he could change his mind. "Or, time magic, or something - I don't know exactly. But it shows me futures, shows me what could be. It's... it's the first time I've told you this. But it's _not_ the first time we've stood here. At least, not from my perspective."

Reynardo held his breath as she searched his face, hard, harder than he'd ever seen her study any of her schoolbooks. Finally, her mouth set in a thin line and her grip on the Book tightened. "Prove it."

That surprised him. She'd always been able to see right through him before, but he supposed this _was_ asking a lot. So he wracked the tattered wisps of his memories, and said, "you've been having nightmares, about dead kittens and puppies. You thought they were only dreams before. Now you don't."

Zenobia looked startled. "I never told you that," and she sounded uncertain so he pounced, words spilling out. "Not _this_ time you didn't, but I've been trying to fix this, this _mess._ I try things, I make choices, but it always falls apart, and I feel steel in my belly, or an arrow in my back, or I'm burning, or-"

"How many times," she interrupted gently, and he loved her for that, " _have_ you, ah, died?"

Visions danced in front of his eyes; with an effort he swallowed them, grimacing at the taste of corpse-smoke. "... I don't know. Afterwards I'm back on the Farfarer, and it's like waking up from a dream. I try to remember, but the tighter I hold on the more it slips through my claws. All I've got is fragments."

Zenobia looked at the book, turning it over in her hands. But she didn't open it, and after a moment she handed it back to him. "Five times?" she pressed, insistent, "ten? A hundred?"

"Not that many," he said with a slow, considering breath. "Thirty, maybe forty times now," and that look was back in her eyes, the one he couldn't quite place. "That's how I came up with this plan. It's how I _really_ know the Core will explode, and what Lapino will do, and it's how I know what the Iblis Stone does to people. If I've picked that damned rock up once I've picked it up ten times, and every time it's hollowed me out until there's nothing left."

Her gaze was soft, but underneath that there was a steely focus in her eyes that he'd never matched, and a fire burning hotter than the Observatory behind her. "I'm not you."

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped, suddenly desperate. "You've taken it too, three or four times. Lapino's taken it, I, I think the Rebel Speaker took it once, it always turns out the same! I am telling you three times: That thing is evil, and if you pick it up then you won't kill your father. _It_ will, using your body like a puppet made of meat."

He took slow steps towards her and laid his hands gently on her shoulders. She was trembling. He hoped it was fear, but anger was more likely. "Look. Even what I do remember is this... This jumbled mess, but I know five things clear and certain. The Skyripper Core is unstable, the Iblis Stone corrupts **anyone** who uses it, Lap-" he paused, looked down with a sigh, "my oldest friend hates me so much he turned traitor," and he met her eyes again, "you, still love me, and..."

He paused again and licked his lips, before the last truth came out in a whispered rush, "and this will be the fourth time I've told you I love you for the first time."

Zenobia's mask splintered. Her eyes widened in shock, and Reynardo blinked away the wetness in his eyes. The smoke was getting pretty thick.

... Oh who was he kidding? And what did pride matter, anyway? It had never helped him when he'd been stabbed, or shot, or blown up, or any of a dozen other horrible fates! He was so bitterly tired of dying, and Zenobia was here, and if it would only make her stay he'd bawl like a kit.

So Reynardo swallowed hard and said, "Zenobia, I'm begging you, _please,_ don't make me do it a fifth time."

They never really worked out which of them broke first. All they remembered afterwards is holding each other, both staining the other's fur with heavy tears.

Eventually, with her head still buried in the fur of his throat, Zenobia gathered up a thin semblance of her tattered composure and growled out, with all the wrath of the princess who had lead conquering armies, all the fire and fury of a lifetime rent asunder, "I _**want**_ his _**head!"**_

"I know," Reynardo said, and she could feel his throat working against her forehead, "and by the Abyss, you've got more right to it than anybody. And if you can see a way to get it without destroying yourself, I'll follow you off the edge of the map to see it through. But after everything I've tried, the best I can offer you is a front seat to watch him blow himself to bits."

There was a long silence where Reynardo closed his eyes and allowed the feel of her against him to crowd out the wretched fog in his mind. At last, when she deflated and whispered, "it'll do," he'd never felt more relieved in his life.

Zenobia stepped back, straightening out her shirt. "So, what's next?"

Reynardo took a reluctant step back himself and sat on the edge of a nearby table, overturned amid the burning wreckage. His hands didn't want to settle on his thighs. They kept wanting to reach out to her, to touch her, assure himself that she was still solid, that she wouldn't vanish like the black smoke around them. His smile, too, had a fragile life of its own that he couldn't bear to reign in. "Wherever you like, I suppose," he answered, watching her intently, "old Isengrim has the Core and Lapino's on his way, so it's all out of our hands now. I suppose we could warn the Rebels, but I'm not sure I could convince them to trust you. Besides, there's not much point; they won't be able to miss the explosion if they try."

Zenobia looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then her face blossomed in a wide, honest smile. "Then let's get back to my ship. I haven't had a chance to restock in a while, so we'd better make some stops - if I'm going to watch my father blow up with the love of my life, I am _not_ doing it over cheap beer and ship's biscuit!"

Reynardo laughed, and when Zenobia joined in it was thready and strained, but still they laughed together for the first time in too long a time.

-

Later, watching the Imperial Fleet from among the clouds with a bowl of strawberries and a mug of Schöbel ale, while Zenobia tracked Lapino's bloody progress through a spyglass, Reynardo decided that he wished more of his adventures ended this way.

Suddenly, Zenobia looked troubled. "I'm pretty I've just spotted your ship," she said, offering the spyglass to him. He snatched it from her grip and peered through, and after a few seconds of her guidance he groaned. There it was on the edge of the fleet, the Farfarer. It only made sense, he supposed. Lapino must have taken it to get the Iblis Stone - they'd probably have seen it sooner, but they'd arrived partway through the rabbit's rampage.

Zenobia gave him a sympathetic look. "I can guess what that ship means to you. It's been your life for years. We could... We could try and get it out, I suppose?"

Reynardo thought of his ship. How she could do the Kestrel Run in twelve furlongs (or so the salesman had told him), how he knew every inch of her timbers. How many mementoes and memories he had in her hold.

He thought of how close Lapino was to the Imperial flagship, and how far they'd have to sail. He thought of Zenobia, beside him. He thought of what it felt like, the last time he'd been caught in the blast of Skyripper's Core.

It was really no choice at all, he decided, and though he felt a pang over his decision, he was surprised at how small it was.

Reynardo passed the spyglass back to her. "No," he said with a small shake of his head, "it's only fair that I don't get _everything_ I want, either. Besides," and he fought to keep his voice casual, as if it was some small matter of no great importance, "my whole life is here."

Zenobia just smiled knowingly at him, warm as the afternoon sun and just as much the light of his world, and turned back to watch the battle. "You are without doubt the most smooth-talking idiot I have ever met," she said as she raised the spyglass, voice filled with affectionate mirth, or possibly mirthful affection.

Reynardo opened his mouth to live up to her assessment, when there was a blinding flash. The air heated up sharply, there was a thunderous roar, and he could suddenly catch a faint scent of burnt oak, burnt feathers, and burnt flesh.

When it ended, the sky was very empty. But it took Reynardo a while to notice that, because he was busy watching Zenobia as, in between blinking hard from the flash, her expression was one of a raw and terrible anger, sated, and fading.

After a while, Zenobia leaned comfortably on the railing and looked at him. "So, is there anything more to your grand plan, or did you never figure out what you'd do if you got this far?"

"It's all a bit open-ended," Reynardo admitted, feeling a touch embarrassed. "But I dare say we can do anything we like now. We could probably convince the Rebels to make you Empress, if you'd like. Or we could retire quietly to somewhere nice. Go find Avellone, maybe."

"I didn't take you for the type to chase myths," she teased, but he just smiled easily. "Skyripper's Core was a myth too, and I found that."

Zenobia allowed that this was true, and looked out at the settling winds. In the distance, she thought she could hear cheers; Rebel scouts, maybe? They'd be celebrating for days, once the news spread. "Maybe the real Avellone," she said as she reached out for his hand, "is wherever we're together. But I don't think there's any rush to decide."

"We've got time."

**Author's Note:**

> Reynardo outright confesses his love to Zenobia in so many words during three paths; Story #6 'Run Zenobia Run', Story #24 'Z is for Zeitgeist', and the Hero Path. I considered counting Story #5 'Don't Think Twice' as well, considering all the meaning in Reynardo's request that Zenobia run away with him, but he doesn't actually SAY 'I love you'. Or, if you prefer, it's just one more part of his memory being fuzzy.


End file.
